


Why Is Santa Pretty?

by Login



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas Eve, First Meetings, Fluff, It's all fluff, M/M, Really bad ice skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 10:12:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2769245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Login/pseuds/Login
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Louis' birthday his sisters decide they want to go ice skating. Louis ends up not hating it.</p>
<p>Or, Harry is an awful skater so Louis lends a hand</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Is Santa Pretty?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Alrighty then, this prompt was for pinkkflamingo12 who asked for "Harry and Louis meet when Harry falls ice skating on Christmas Eve and Louis helps him up" so uh, this happened- I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT
> 
> writing this was really fun, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night

This was an absolutely shite way to spend his birthday. Really, who was supposed to enjoy this unique and twisted form of torture? Did people actually expect him to enjoy having his hands and toes freeze off as people butchered the tinny christmas carols that blasted from the speakers surrounding him? No. No way in hell was that going to happen.

A small bundle of joy slid past him and he muttered a yet another curse under his breath. He just narrowly avoided flattening the grinning source of his problems.

“Lou! Lou look at me! I’m doing it!” his little sister screeched. Louis tried to contain his fondness, really he did, but there was only so much scowling one could do when faced with a hoard of happy Tomlinsons. They were a force to be reckoned with.

As she hurtled past him she yelled out “Fizzy I’m coming!” Louis turned just in time to see Phoebe crash into Fizz and behold as they both tumbled to the ground. He let out a long suffering sigh and made his way over to them. Fizzy was groaning and attempting to extract herself from Phoebe’s limbs as the younger of the two giggled maniacally, seemingly unaware of her sisters agitation.

“Alright,” he huffed, “up you get.” He reached a hand out to both of them, and managed to get them back of their feet with little hassle. Phoebe grinned at him, shouting out a thanks as she grabbed her sister, and pulled her along to go find Daisy. Okay, so maybe skating wasn’t so bad. His sisters were happy and that’s what was important right? He shook his head. That was so sappy. Naturally to counteract that he sped off to harass said girls.

Honestly, he wasn’t a bad skater. He was, after all, the one who had taught all his sisters to skate; that took some skill. Soon he was making circles around a group of giggling girls before stopping quickly and showering them all with snow. He cackled and skated backwards, taking in their surprised faces with the kind of glee only an older brother could display. He began to turn around when he became aware of another presence just to his right aaand… He was too late. They collided.

His first thought was: something along the lines of holy fuck that hurt, second thought was: he was seeing christmas. His third thought was wondering just how hard he hit his head. But nope, even as he shook his head and his eyesight became noticeably less fuzzy, he was looking at the human embodiment of christmas. Wow. White skin marked with pink from the cold, lips that were full and curved into a smile, and red, and green eyes that sparkled. Actually sparkled. He was looking at Santa. Louis Tomlinson just crashed into Santa.

And Santa fucking giggled. “Oops”.

Louis propped himself up on his elbow so he was looking at the person he hit more clearly, and because his mother raised him with impeccable manners and he knew an apology was in order he replied- “hi”. In his defence, Louis was pretty sure his mum never prepared him for this. Oh no. Because the red lips, rosy cheeks, and green eyes were not on an elderly, fat man with an abundance of white hair. Nope. The person sprawled across the ice beside him was a gorgeous boy-man with tousled brown curls stuffed under a beanie and a wide grin on his face. Louis was pretty sure his jaw dropped.

Damage control Tomlinson, he thought wildly. “Sorry mate, I shoulda been looking, y’alright?” If his voice was a little higher than normal, well, no one had to know.

The young, pretty Santa just widened his smile, “not a problem, I’m really not all that great at staying on my feet actually, I’m a bit clumsy? I saw you coming and couldn’t move fast enough? So really it’s my fault. Hi to you too.” He punctuated the end of his speech with yet another blinding smile. Alright so. He had dimples too. Louis could totally handle this. He could handle adorable dimples on an already gorgeous face paired with a deep throaty voice that moved as slow as molasses. He was fine. Totally and completely fine, thank you very much.

“Right, er, well still, sorry,” he got out. At this point they were both just kind of sitting on the ice, looking at each other in a way that wasn’t totally normal, probably. Curly was just a little to happy for someone who was lying on the cold ice and Louis was a little to captivated by the person in front of him. “Right,” he said again, because he was a conversational genius really, “as much as I’m enjoying this ice, me arse is freezing, and I’m rather fond of me arse. So. Let’s stand up?” The last part sounded to much like a question, so Louis let out a huff and scrambled to his feet as fast as he was able to with skates on. When he looked back down he was a little surprised to see that the other boy was making very little effort to get up as well. Louis couldn’t help quirking his eyebrow, making even more colour flush to Curly’s cheeks. He smirked a bit at that. Yes, good, he was calm, cool, and collected, and pretty boys knelt at his feet. Maybe this one didn’t do so on purpose, but, semantics.

The other boys smile was tinged with shyness when he looked at Louis now. He shifted around from his place on the ground, his eyes flickered down before he was able to make eye contact with Louis again. “The thing is,” he cleared his throat, “the thing is I’m not overly confident in my ability to stand back up without harming myself more?” He bit his bottom lip- okay that was unfair, it was so plump, and red, did Louis mention how red his lips were? Because they were- “I wasn’t kidding about how clumsy I am” he finished, a little self-deprecating. He was adorable.

Without thinking Louis reached his hand out to help the other boy up, and after trying a few times and almost falling back down, he managed to get him steady. He almost didn’t notice how close they became during the struggle, except now Louis had to look up to see his face. Oh. Curly was really quite tall, all broad shoulders and narrow hips. For someone who was apparently clumsy, he certainly looked graceful. His legs were so long, they look muscular under his, wow, exceptionally tight jeans, he wondered vaguely how much room this boy would take up while being fully stretched out… say, on a bed… on Louis’ bed… A pressure on his hand brought him back to the present.

Oh shit.

He was still standing no more than a few inches away from the other boy, and he had been blatantly running his eyes up and down his body, and, oh god, they were still holding hands from when he pulled him off the ice but Louis was just now becoming aware of how huge they were, completely engulfing his own. Shit. Louis pulled his hand back like he’d just been burned, and moved to put distance between them before he did something stupid. The other boy was looking at him with a semi stricken look, his beautiful mouth parted ever so slightly. Fuck. Just, fuck. Something more stupid then. He needed to avoid doing something more stupid. So naturally he blurted out the first thing that popped to mind, “so you’re not Santa then?” He wanted to die, please.

Except that his question startled a laugh from the non-Santa. It was loud and deep and muffled as the boy clapped his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound, seemingly surprised by himself. He was still smiling wide when he said “no, uh, just Harry I’m afraid.”

He really was so cute. “Right. Okay. Harry, not Santa,” he was making no sense, this was just awesome, “it’s just uh, well you seem quite christmassy? Like jolly, and red… stuff… ‘M Louis, and I think I hit my head when we fell.” He finished lamely, hoping he could pass of his rambling as a side effect of injury. Immediately the other boy, Harry, looked concerned, as though he actually thought Louis might be severely hurt. Although, if Louis had heard someone spewing the nonsense he just had… he could understand Harry’s reaction. His massive hand reached out seemingly without his permission and with his finger, tilted Louis’ chin up so their eyes met. Louis couldn’t help the way his breath caught in his throat. He could feel the warmth from Harry’s hand bleed through the mittens he was wearing. It seemed like Harry was starting to realize what he was doing, place his hand on a strangers face, and his mouth opened and closed, but his hand didn't move away just yet.

“Louis!” No. No no no no no. Harry’s hand was immediately gone from his face, and Louis had to reach out and steady the other boy as they both broke apart. Then Louis turned to face the blonde bane of his current existence. “Louis, could you be anymore disastrous? You’re worse than the twins.” Lottie was now standing in-front of the two boys, a wicked grin on her face when she saw that Louis was blushing. He was just in the middle of planning how he would steal her phone and ship it off to the North Pole when Harry spoke up, “that was me actually, uh, not his fault really.” He smiled small and timid and so, so cute. Louis shot his sister a look that he hoped conveyed get the hell out of here before I cut off all your hair and turned back to Harry.

“It really was my fault, sorry, are you sure you’re okay?” Harry’s smile widened, “Yeah, no, I’m fine, but if you did hit your head you should check for a concussion. I could check the basics actually, I’ve uh, had a few myself.” Louis smiled at him and nodded. “Great! Or, not great, if you’re really hurt. Uh, we should go over to the bench?”

Louis snorted “that a question Curly?”

Harry grinned and brought his hand to the back of his head, playing with some of the loose curls that Louis had brought attention to. “Not a question,” he said, “we should go to the bench.”

“Right you are Dr., off we go!” Except Harry didn’t go very far. He took a few choppy steps as though he had forgotten he had skates on, and wobbled severely. With a small push forward Louis was beside him again and he wordlessly offered his elbow out, which Harry took, looking thankful. He’d almost forgotten about Lottie when he heard someone clear their throat in a very thinly veiled manner. He looked over his shoulder and did the most mature thing he could think of, which was to stick his tongue out at his little sister. Beside him Harry giggled, and Louis blushed again- seriously, he never blushed this much, and it could stop now thanks- when he realized Harry had seen the whole exchange. Oh well. If nothing else, Louis could always be amusing.

The pair moved slowly, managing to avoid the rest of the holiday skaters, although they had a few close calls that had Harry tensing up. Each time it happened Louis laughed until Harry joined him, a little bit more at ease with his surroundings.

Once they made it to the bench Harry sat down beside him, obviously not willing to risk staying on his feet any longer than he had. He spun so that he had one leg over each side of the bench and his entire body was facing Louis. His legs really were long. It wasn’t Louis’ fault that he was looking again because Harry just kept bringing attention to them. Really, he was only human. Then Harry’s fingers were reaching for him again and his attention was drawn to his face once more.

“Okay,” he started, “you didn’t throw up, or get knocked out, so those are good signs. You don’t seem that disoriented, although, you did ask if I was Santa,” Louis does not make a disgruntled noise, “so just follow my finger with your eyes okay? Without moving your head.” Now that Louis had basically been encouraged to marvel at Harry’s hands, he thinks he may have a problem. Harry’s hands really are huge, massive actually, and for some Louis is really interested in the idea of those hands shaking as Harry gets overwhelmed by Louis kissing his neck… Oh. Harry was talking to him. “What?”

“I said,” Harry was still smiling, okay, that was a good sign, “how are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m good, peachy really, definitely not suffering from any head trauma,” he said with utter conviction, because really Harry should believe him. And then let Louis make him fall in love with him or something.

“Really,” green eyes blinked at him, “and what gives you the authority to make that kind of diagnosis? Last time I checked, I was the concussion expert here.”

Louis wasn’t sure he’d ever stop smiling. “I s’pose not. And according to your very real, very professional judgement, what is the verdict?”

“My many years of experience deem you alright to return to skating,” he paused, “Hey Louis, what did the man get when he walked into the bar?” Louis blinked, which apparently was enough of a prompt for Harry to continue, “he got a concussion!”

Oh god. That was the worst joke he’d ever heard. That wasn’t even slightly funny. He let out a groan that he hoped communicated how sad that was, but Harry looked even more delighted. His dimples were out in full force and he was giggling again. Who actually giggled? Louis was sitting beside a disney princess.

“Get it? Because it sounded like I meant a bar, bar, but I was really talking about a bar, bar, so injury instead of drinks!” Harry seemed so overly happy with his explanation that Louis almost felt bad for making fun of him. Almost.

“No need to look so bloody pleased with yourself Harold, that was a piss-poor joke, and an even worse follow up. Of course I got it,” he continued, trying to sound more exasperated than amused, “it just wasn’t funny.”

Harry didn’t falter. “Then why are you smiling?” Hmm. He may have a point there.

“It’s just because you are a ridiculous human being.” Now they were both sat looking at each other with smiles on their faces. Maybe they could be ridiculous together.

A loud peal of laughter caught his attention and he finally managed to look away from the boy across from him. Approaching the bench quickly were Daisy and Phoebe, evidently in a race to see who would make it there first. He barely thinks to spread his arms out to catch them before they both crashed into the place he was sitting. Although, he supposed Harry could always check them for concussions. As soon as the girls had caught their breath they began talking over each other.

“Aren’t you gonna come skate with us Lou?”

“Yeah! You said you would!”

They look so expectant, and he did come mostly for their benefit, but he hesitated. “Um, Harry, who are you here with?”

“Oh,” he startled, “uh, I came with my friend, Niall, he’s the blonde one over there, but he was meeting up with his girlfriend so I’m pretty much by myself, I guess?”

Before Louis had the chance to reply the girls turned their attention to Harry as well. “You can come skate with us then!” They were both nodding like they were content with their plan, but Harry looked a bit uneasy.

Louis leaned closer to him, only taking a moment to enjoy how good he smelt up close like this, like vanilla and warm cookies. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, it’s okay. Honestly, they look scary but they’ll forgive you if you don’t come skate.”

Half way through Louis’ very understanding and admirable speech, because really he would like to force the other boy to spend more time with him, Harry started shaking his head. He waited until Louis was finished to reply, “it’s not that.” He turned his attention to the girls again, which, once again, freaking adorable. “Thank you girls very much, I would love to skate with you, but I’m afraid I’m not very good at it.”

Apparently that was not a good enough answer for the twins though, because the next thing they were saying was “oh, Lou can teach you!” He silently vowed to get them everything they wanted for christmas tomorrow. Everything.

Harry had a small smile on his lips, “would you? I know you’d probably rather be with your family, it’s totally okay if you can’t.”

Louis was on his feet, and much like earlier, reaching his hand out for the boy, “think of it as me doing a public service, making sure you don’t knock down any other unsuspecting skaters.”

Harry snorted, “oh so that was my fault now, was it?”

“Yes it was, thank you for seeing the errors of your way, now come along.”

And it was great. It was really great. Harry held his hands tightly, and laughed at his brilliant jokes, while he made awful puns that shouldn’t be funny but for some reason were. He learned that Harry was a cat person, he worked in a bakery, he had an older sister named Gemma, that christmas was his favourite holiday, and that he was 18, in his first year of university, the same place Louis went to. He in turn, told Harry that he loved footie, that his favourite movie was Grease, that he had four little sisters, and that he was 21 today.

At that information Harry’s eyes widened, “it’s your birthday?”

Louis smiled smugly, making circles around Harry now that he was able to stand up longer than a few seconds on his own, “that it is, I am a miracle baby.”

Harry paused, suddenly looking nervous, “um Lou?” The way the nickname came out in Harry’s deep voice made something in his chest squeeze a little tighter. “Yeah?”

“Um, I know you’re here with your sisters, but uh, would you want to go get tea? Or coffee? Or hot chocolate? Or something? Because, it’s your birthday. But, uh, would you want to do that, with me?”

And because Louis had discovered that he really liked when Harry blushed, he asked, “my dear Harry, are you asking me on a date?” The other boy nodded, unable to look Louis in the eye, and Louis was so fond already he didn’t understand what this person had done to him. So Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and tugged him over to the area with all of the shoes, reassuring him that yes he wanted to go on this date, and no Harold he does not require a birthday present from him. Honestly.

Louis sent the girls home with Lottie while Harry told his friend he was leaving. Louis was pretty sure that he caught Harry calling him the fit one to his friend, the one who looked like “a scruffy, attractive elf,” and maybe he should have been a little offended by that, but the way that Harry beamed at him made him think it was probably a good thing. Pretty Santa and an attractive elf. He kind of liked that.

So if they stayed at the coffee shop until they were closing, that was okay. If after that they walked around the city, hand in hand, steadily moving closer to each other, claiming to need more body heat, that was okay. If they danced to the christmas carols being played by the shops they passed, that was okay. If they both tried to hide their yawns because they didn’t want the night to be over just yet, that was okay. If Harry happened to be the most beautiful person Louis had ever met, that was okay. If Harry blushed when he was told that, that was okay. If Louis told Harry he’d really like to see him again, that was, of course, if he didn’t mind, that was okay. If Louis wished Harry a merry christmas, and Harry replied with a whispered happy birthday against Louis’ lips, that was okay. And if Louis went home with a new number in his phone, warm despite the chilly air, lips tingling from where Harry had kissed him over and over again until they’d been breathless, well, that was better than okay, wasnnit?

**Author's Note:**

> so, that was that, my first Larry fic  
> thanks for wasting your time with me, I love and cherish you  
> Oh, and hey, I have a tumblr, and you should really say hi: willinglyunknown (https://www.tumblr.com/blog/willinglyunknown)


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